Morning Walk
(This column was first published in
the March 24, 2003 issue of The Buffalo News.)
On
the Ides of March ‹ that day in mid-month we remember from school as the date
of Julius Caesar's murder ‹ I finally got out for a walk after being mostly house-bound
through this uncomfortable winter.
And
what a pleasant walk it was. Only about two miles, mostly through residential
neighborhoods, but also through the woods along Baehre Swamp and Margaret
Louise Park.
It
was one of those glorious days: a blue cloudless sky with not a breath of wind,
every sound carrying in the still cold air.
The
little remaining snow had settled and developed a hard crust. In some places I
could walk on it without breaking through, but even when it wouldn't hold my
weight it was only an inch or two deep. Sidewalks were still ice covered, and
footprints made earlier in slush had now hardened into irregular tracks that
made walking tricky in some places. In others they were covered with smooth
ice, much of it now white. I like those white ice sheets where the underlying
water has receded, because I can crunch across them making loud, satisfying
noises.
One
thing is different now in this area. Dogs do not come out either to greet you
with tail wagging or to bark furiously while baring their teeth. Many owners
have had those animal restraining boundaries fixed and excited dogs run back
and forth across lawns as though they are ranging behind a real fence. They act
hypnotized and their barking sounds frustrated. I wonder if they'll wear paths
in the lawns where they run.
My
first bird of that morning was a robin. It was far from the only one I had yet
encountered and I didn't even see this bird. It was cut-cutting from a tree behind a house. There were still a few
berries around to last it until lawns are bared and it can forage for worms.
This
is a time of year when the common birds still receive attention. Later they
will simply be ticked off on the day's list and immediately forgotten. On that
morning I took a closer look at a sporty male house sparrow, his black bib and
white ear patch making him quite attractive and even giving him a rather formal
appearance. He didn't offer much of a song but he chirped away as though I
should appreciate his melody.
The
starling is a better vocalist. Granted it does some screeching but at this time
of year it has a varied repertoire. It is quite a good mimic and I watched one
whistling quietly a few notes of a cardinal's tear tear tear song. It did a good job as it was rewarded by a
responding cardinal in the distance.
I
walked back through the woods from Hopkins Road and was immediately greeted by
the nasal calls of a nuthatch. Then two red-bellied woodpeckers churred in the background. I watched for them and one soon
rewarded me by flying into a nearby tree. It was good to see that this southern
species, only recently moved into our region, had made it through this harsh
winter.
But
then I received a real surprise. A large bird flew low across my path. The
brief glance I had of it suggested that it was a wild turkey and, sure enough,
a female ran across the trail following her consort. She left her big tracks
for me to examine.
No
sooner had the turkeys moved off when I received a final treat. A muskrat
peeped out at me through a hole in the drainage ditch
ice.
I returned home rejuvenated.-- Gerry Rising